Death of Me
by Apocalyxtic98
Summary: Alternate to 7.17. Castiel's back. Dean's mad. Sam's sick. When Dean finds out Cass is back, what happens? An encounter with a demon shakes all three members of Team Free Will, most of all Dean.
1. Chapter 1

**I named this after the song by RED. It really is an awesome song, go check it out. I was listening to it when I first came up with the idea. I listened to it while I plotted the story. And I listened to it while I wrote it! Check the song out, it really rocks!**

**I do not own Supernatural. If I did, don't you think these would be episodes! **

**Hey, guys, for some reason I'm really excited for this one. So, yeah. I was like, staying up till one in the morning to write this! **

Sam sat up in bed. He hadn't been able to sleep for three days. Mostly because of the devil. He was so much fun. It was like a 24 hour slumber party; except, with Satan. Even if he didn't have the devil on his shoulder, he probably would have had some restless nights. Dean. He wasn't the same since Hell. But now, with losing Cass, and Bobby, Dean was almost a completely different person. It was like he was just going through the motions.

Where his eyes had sparkled with mischief years before, now they just gleamed dully. No amount of jokes or pranks could bring back the twinkle in his eyes. Sure, Dean still made his little cracks, but Sam could tell he didn't really mean it. The only time he caught a glimpse of past-Dean was when Dean was in Sam's room in the mental hospital. Then his eyes shone with the same concern and helplessness they had before the whole apocalyptic mess.

Sam was interrupted in his ponderings by none other than Dean himself. Dean walked into the room, holding Bobby's flask, and collapsed into a chair in the corner of the room. He took several long swigs before Sam spoke.

"Dean," Sam started.

Dean wouldn't have it. "What, Sam? You already know I'm not gonna pour my heart out to you. Besides, even if I did, there wouldn't be that much to say. I'm fine." Both the Winchesters knew that Dean didn't believe it.

Then Dean stood up. "I'm going out. See ya soon, Sammy." Sam started to call after him, but Dean either didn't hear him, or chose to ignore it. Probably the second.

...

"You know, you look really amazing tonight," Dean whispered to the lady next to him. Dean wasn't even sure what her name was.

She smiled, slightly blushing. "Thank you. I was just about to say the same thing."

_Bingo,_ Dean thought with a slight smirk. He needed a distraction. From Sam, from Cass, from Bobby, from everything. He needed a couple hours just to escape. And he knew the perfect way. At first, he had tried alcohol. But even four belts of tequila later, the pain and anger still hung around. So, he turned to his other option.

And Dean Winchester thought that this plan was going very well. "So.. baby," the woman purred. "How about you and me go somewhere a little more private?" She twirled the collar of Dean's jacket.

_That was easy._ Dean thought. "Sure. I'd love that." The woman whose name Dean didn't know led him outside the bar. As she walked out, she glanced behind her at the bartender. He gave a slight wink as the woman's eyes flashed completely black.

...

Castiel looked around him. There was no definite ending to the smoky white substance that surrounded him. Momentarily, he wondered if he would just sit there for all eternity. But then a figure began to emerge. It was humanoid, but there were no features. Instead, glowing white light emanated from it.

Castiel was sure that if he was mortal, this would blind him. But he was an angel. The light didn't harm him, it wasn't even uncomfortable. In all actuality, it felt faintly pleasing.

"Who is there?" Castiel called.

"It is me, Castiel," a deep voice rumbled. Castiel was sure that if the figure had features, it would be smiling.

"Father?" Castiel asked with incredulity. He had never seen his father. Surely his father was coming now to punish him. Perhaps give him Lucifer's sentence. After all, he had done almost exactly what his treacherous brother had done. It was the fate he deserved.

"Yes. Castiel, you have not finished your assignment."

"Father, what assignment?"

The figure seemed to huff in mild irritation. "You were given the task to guard and protect the Winchester boys. You seem to have been distracted."

Castiel was amazed. His father hadn't come to send him to the deepest recesses of hell, but to send him back on his assignment. "But, Father. I failed, rather miserably. I committed blasphemy. I believed you did not care. That you weren't watching."

The glowing figure put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Castiel, even though you doubted, you are still important to this mission. The Winchesters must be protected. You know why. Even if they did not fulfill their purpose in the destruction of the world, they will be needed for other things."

Castiel nodded. The Winchesters had not known half of what their destiny was. The glowing figure said one last thing to Castiel. "Castiel, you are the only angel that can keep watch over the Winchesters." As if the glowing figure knew Castiel's question, which it probably did, it answered, "Because you are the only angel that they have ever trusted."

Castiel was about to tell his Father that the Winchesters no longer trusted him; Dean Winchester most likely hated him. But the glowing figure waved his hand, and Castiel was on Earth. In his former vessel

**Please, R&R! **


	2. Chapter 2

**_I do not own Supernatural. Or Sam. Or Dean. Darn. Christmas List! _**

**_Enjoy!_**

Dean blinked as the woman whose name he still didn't know flicked the lights on. The house was nice. _Too nice, _Dean thought briefly_, for a single woman who picks up guys at the bar._ He pushed the paranoid thought away. Tonight he wasn't a hunter. Tonight he was going to forget everything. Or at least he'd try.

The woman beckoned Dean teasingly with her hand. Dean gladly followed, shrugging off his coat. As the woman led Dean to her bedroom, the upper half of Dean's brain noticed odd symbols. But the bottom half was stronger. And it was currently preoccupied.

Dean watched eagerly as the woman easily slid off her sweater. Her eyes were looking into Dean's the whole time until a searing pain blinded him momentarily. When he opened his eyes again the woman's previously beautiful face was made cruel by a pair of coal black eyes.

"Bitch!" Dean snarled, holding a hand to his burning chest. He watched the woman for a while, but she didn't seem to be advancing. She just smiled evilly, holding a searing hot fire poker. Probably waiting for some more co-horts. Dean took the time to inspect his wound.

A long scorch mark ran across Dean's chest. Right across… his tattoo. The tattoo that protected him from demon possession. Too late, Dean realized that the she-demon wasn't waiting for her superiors, she was waiting for him to realize what she had done. Because demons, they loved gloating.

Dean watched in horror as black smoke erupted from the woman's throat. It hung in the air for a while, pulsing, before it began to cram itself down Dean's own throat. It was more painful than Dean had imagined. Sam had experienced it before, but Dean hadn't.

It was a whole new world.

...

Sam looked up in surprise when the door to his room opened. He relaxed slightly when he saw Dean's familiar figure in the doorway. But something was wrong. Dean had 'gone out'. Sam knew by now what that meant. And it was way too early for Dean to be back.

"Dean," Sam asked cautiously, "what are you doing back so soon? I mean, you were 'going out'." Sam could hear the quotation marks in his voice. He hoped Dean could, too. He didn't really feel like explaining.

Dean shrugged in a very Dean-ish way. "Eh," he said. "I guess the chicks just weren't digging all this tonight." Dean gestured at himself.

Sam relaxed completely. Nobody but Dean could say that. He felt sorry for the poor girls that Dean had hit on. Sam grinned. "Well, I don't blame them. You've looked better."

Dean put his hand over his heart in mock hurt. "I could say the same to you," he replied.

"I won't argue with that," Sam agreed.

Suddenly, Dean's face soured. "And we both know who did this to you."

"Dean," Sam started.

"Sam," Dean patronized. "It was Cass. This is all his fault. You know what, I'm glad he's dead. He deserves it, and ten times more than that."

Sam relaxed mood disappeared. Either Dean was extremely drunk, or he had finally lost it. Maybe it was a combination of both. Sam started to say something, then decided against it. After all, if something weird was up, it would be best not to say anything that suggested Sam thought something was up. So Sam stayed off the topic, not wanting to alert Dean.

"Yea, Dean. It was Cass's fault." Sam sighed. Sam became even more alarmed when Dean grinned. Dean wouldn't grin like that, would he?

"Well, I'll leave you to not sleep," Dean picked his coat up off the chair and started to leave.

"Bye, Dean."

"Bye, Sammy." Dean left the room.

...

Sammy didn't know it, but Dean, the real Dean, had been screaming at him during the whole conversation. The demon had manipulated him. Literally possessed him. _Well, that was what demons did._ Dean thought. In other cases, his voice might have been smug, but now it was just hollow and empty. Even in his own mind.

Except it wasn't his own mind. The demon could read every thought that went through it. Hearing Dean's current thoughts, the demon mocked him. _Aw… being possessed isn't as easy as you thought, huh? Little Sammy didn't tell you all the horrors of it, did he?_ When Dean filled with panic, the demon laughed. _Although, he didn't experience all the horrors of it, really. Meg was actually pretty nice to him, letting him black it all out. You won't be so lucky. _Dean felt himself lick his lips. _No, I have a particular grudge against you, Dean Winchester._

_Well, that isn't unusual for low-life demons like yourself,_ Dean thought smugly. The demon silently agreed. Putting up bravado was hard when the person you were trying to convince was inside your head. The demon just laughed.

_We're going to have lots of fun, you and me, Dean. I have some extra special plans… and they involve your friend, Castiel, the angel boy._

Confusion filled Dean. _Cass is dead, ass-clown. He's been dead for a long time._

Hearing himself laugh unnerved Dean. This demon wasn't afraid to show Dean who was really in charge. Dean couldn't even blink if he wanted to. _Oh, no,_ the demon explained with a smirk on Dean's face. _Your little pal Cass is back. It seems God has a particular fondness for him._

Dean didn't know whether he should feel relief or anger. It really was a combination. He never really had wanted Cass dead, no matter what the demon had said before. Even though the angel had brought down the wall that Death had set up in Sam's head, he was still family. But that didn't mean Dean wasn't angry with Cass. No, furious. The angel had hurt one of the only members of his family that was left. And that could not be forgiven.

_Exactly my thoughts._ The demon thought. It let out a blood-curdling laugh from Dean's mouth. People stopped what they were doing and stared at him, but the demon didn't mind. It relished the attention.

_Attention whore,_ Dean thought.

_**Review! Review! Review! (That's your conscience speaking!)**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_I think I've said this before.. or was that a dream? Hmm.. I do not own Supernatural._**

Castiel looked around him. He was in a parking lot. The building in front of him read, "Greenwood Clinic for the Mentally Unstable." The name seemed rather callous to Castiel, but he went inside anyways. After all, this was where his Father had put him.

The building was very white. It reminded Castiel of one mysophobic man's heaven. Everything had been pure white, as if all the furniture and fixtures had been soaked in bleach. Even the walls and ceiling were as white as snow.

A woman nurse looked at Castiel strangely, then asked, "Can I help you, sir?"

Castiel almost said no, but he remembered what his Father had told him. His job was to protect the Winchesters. It was highly probable, then, that one of them was in here. _Sam,_ thought Castiel. After all, Castiel had brought down the wall in Sam's mind.

"Yes," Castiel replied. "I am looking for a Winchester."

The nurse glanced down the hallway. "There's a Sam Winchester in Room 401." She paused, and then asked, "Are you a relative? His brother has been in and out of here constantly. Poor boy."

Castiel's hands sweated. "Something of the sort," he replied. Then he walked down the hallway to Room 401. When he opened the door, he found Sam in a worse state than when he had last seen him. Castiel hadn't even known that was possible. By all reality, Sam Winchester should be dead. But the Winchesters were made of stronger stuff than the average human. Castiel had discovered that the hard way.

Sam looked up when Cass entered the room. "Cass?" he asked incredulously.

Castiel nodded. "Yes, Sam. It is I."

Sam looked extremely perplexed. "But, you, you were gone, Cass. We watched you melt into a pile of black goo."

Castiel nodded again. "That event did transpire. But, my Father has brought me back," he paused, and then added, "again."

Sam shook his head slightly. "You are real, right?"

"Yes, Sam. I am not one of the hallucinations you are most likely experiencing." Castiel said in all seriousness.

"Just checking."

"Where is Dean?" Castiel asked. "Is he out purchasing food? Or is he in an unsanitary motel room consuming copious quantities of alcohol?"

Sam stifled a laugh. Cass could be… different. But he already knew that. "No, Dean, uh, Dean's probably crashed somewhere."

Castiel looked concerned. "Dean has crashed?"

Sam sighed. "It's an expression Cass; Dean's probably sleeping in his hotel room." Castiel's concern eased.

"I will go visit him, then." Castiel announced.

Sam stopped him. "Cass, uh, I don't know if that's such a great idea. Dean's pretty pissed with you right now. He definitely hasn't forgotten what you did..."

Castiel's blue eyes filled with remorse and sorrow. "Neither have I." he replied. "Sam, I am extremely sorry. I promise to make it right. But first, I have to explain this to Dean."

"Cass!" Sam called. But the angel had already left in a sudden gust of wind and the sound of feathers.

Dean sat impatiently, trapped in his own body. He would take a mental nap, but the demon wouldn't even grant him that small relief. He was extremely bored, extremely pissed off, and extremely tired from trying to regain control of his body.

He really had no idea how Sam had managed to override Lucifer. Dean couldn't even knock off some low-level demon. He had a new appreciation for the miraculous feat that Sam had pulled off when they put a halt to Armageddon.

The demon was apparently waiting for someone. Dean could sense that. There was a sort of two way connection. It disgusted Dean, but he thought it might be helpful later. He couldn't exactly read the demon's thoughts, unless it let him, but he could sort of sense its intentions and emotions. Dean was an open book to the demon, though.

Suddenly, the demon stood up off the cheap motel bed. It walked over to the table where a variety of weapons from Dean's duffel bag lay. There were his shotguns, his handguns, his flasks of holy water, the rock salt, the iron, various knives, the most noticeable of which was Ruby's knife, silver bullets, and most frightening, a boom box. Among the assortment was also the angel blade that Dean had kept from when they had been almost constantly assaulted by angels wanting to capture them to be Michael and Lucifer's vessels.

Dean had never thought he'd really need to use it, but better safe than sorry. When he saw the angel blade on the table, a sinking feeling started in his chest. He had connected what the demon had made Dean say to Sam in the mental hospital with the angel blade on the table and had come up with a conclusion. He only hoped it was a wrong one.

_**Ahh! Please review! Please. My life depends on it. (Actually it doesn't, but you don't know that!)**_


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel looked around at his new surroundings. It was a cheap motel room; that much was obvious. It was unusually clean to be Dean's though. At first Castiel thought he had somehow appeared in the wrong hotel room. But then he spotted Dean's familiar form by the far wall.

Castiel took a step forward and cleared his throat. It wasn't necessary; he just wanted to let Dean know that he was in the room. Dean whirled around, arms splayed dramatically. "Hello, Castiel." Castiel knew something was wrong right from Dean's first sentence.

Then Dean pulled a small, silver contraption from his pocket. He lit it quickly, and dropped it on the hotel floor. Instantly, a ring of fire blazed around the angel. The flames let out a primordial groaning noise.

Castiel stared at Dean. Dark shadows fell upon Dean's face, making him appear frightening. Suddenly, it all clicked. Castiel had never felt so slow in his entire life.

"You're not Dean," Castiel said.

Dean smiled evilly. Or rather, Not-Dean smiled evilly. "One point for Captain Obvious." Not-Dean walked over to the single table in the hotel room. On it sat a variety of weapons, only one of which had any real effect on Castiel. Instead of grabbing one of the weapons, Not-Dean reached over and pushed a button on a device that Castiel knew played music.

Castiel didn't recognize the name of the song, as it wasn't something that Dean had played while driving the Impala. But he did hear the lyrics.

_Cause he gets up in the morning_

_And he goes to work at nine_

_And he comes back home at five-thirty_

_Gets the same train every time_

Castiel wondered what Not-Dean's motivation was to play this particular song. Any meaning was lost on the angel. Perhaps whatever made Dean Not-Dean had a fondness for it. Not-Dean took a step closer for a moment, inspecting Castiel. When Not-Dean was closer, Castiel had an answer.

"You're a demon." Castiel said. "Dean is being possessed."

The demon possessing Dean caused Dean to smile cruelly. "Well, aren't you just a bright little angel?" Dean's voice sounded strange. Castiel had never heard him use that tone.

_And he's oh, so good_

_And he's oh, so fine_

_And he's oh, so healthy _

_In his body and his mind_

Castiel listened. The song sounded as if the refrain was coming up. It was foolish and trivial, but not knowing the title of this musical composition was bothering him.

_He's a well-respected man about town_

_Doing the best things so conservatively_

Even hearing the chorus, Castiel could not decipher the name of the song. Not-Dean turned toward him and smiled. He twirled an angel blade in his hands. Castiel had to fight to keep the fear off his face.

"How did you acquire an angel blade?" Castiel asked.

Dean smiled cruelly. _Not-Dean._ Castiel tried to remind himself. But it was hard. It was becoming hard to separate the line between Dean and his demonic counterpart. Suddenly, Castiel was afraid that Dean's actions were fully influenced by the demon. How much of this was truly Dean's wishes?

"Woo-hoo! Earth to angel!" Dean said, waving his hand in front of Castiel's face.

"I am here." Castiel said.

Dean looked shell-shocked. "Really? Oh God, sorry. You know, I didn't prepare the place…" he trailed off, looking around the room, apparently upset.

Castiel tilted his head. "If you did not prepare, then why do you have such an assortment of weapons? And you could not have trapped me if you did not prepare the circle of holy oil ahead of time."

Dean's face morphed into disgust and pure hatred. Castiel almost flinched back. On Dean Winchester, it was truly terrifying, even for an angel. "Stupid angel," he spat.

"But," he said, grinning maniacally, "back to the question at hand. Where did I get this little toy?" Dean passed the angel blade between his fingers. It glittered menacingly. Dean prepared himself, as if for a lecture, clearing his throat. "Yes, good old Dean here kept it from those fun apocalypse days! You know, Cass," Dean continued, smiling as if he and the angel had a secret joke, "when angels were at the Winchester's throats constantly."

Dean turned on his heel. "Ah, but the real question is, why did Dean, I mean, I, keep it? Was it just in case? A keepsake of the good old times? Or was it for you? Maybe he was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to finally dispose of you. Did you ever think of that?"

Castiel fought hard to keep panic and horror off his face, even though a storm swirled anxiously inside him. It was just the demon. Castiel remembered Dean saying that demons just tried to mess with your head. That was all.

Castiel must not have been as successful with keeping the pain off his face as he thought, because Dean was laughing. "Hit a little close to home, have I?" he taunted.

Castiel just stared with a blank expression. Dean sighed dramatically. "Angels these days. Frustratingly slow." He laughed uproariously at his own joke. Castiel sighed.

In an instant, Dean stopped laughing. His expression grew deadly serious. "Don' t think you're getting off the hook, angel boy." He spat. "I've got so many plans for you." His grin was horrifying.

He had died many times. He knew it wasn't extremely painful. Even when his older brothers, Raphael and Lucifer had found amusement in blasting him apart, it hadn't been agonizing. But he didn't know if he could stand it when Dean Winchester was his killer. Torturer, Castiel amended. Surely the demon wouldn't let Castiel go that easy.

Not after it had managed to find some way to possess Dean Winchester. Castiel knew that both the Winchesters had received anti-possession tattoos after Sam had been possessed.

So how had this demon gotten past the seemingly invincible defenses?


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hey Hey! New Chapter! I'd like to dedicate this one (and the next, cuz this one's short) to bearberry91. For all your support, and your riveting conversation! :)**_

**_I do not like green eggs and ham. I do like Sam. Sam Winchester. (Even though Dean's cooler.) I do not own Supernatural._**

Sam knew something was wrong. Surely Cass would have returned by now. Wouldn't he? Even if Dean had argued with him, the angel wasn't exactly chatty. So what was keeping him?

Sam was burning with anxiety, fear, and curiosity. He had to go see for himself. But how would he break out of a mental institution? These places were more tightly locked up than jail. And Sam knew that from experience. Although, Sam had also broken out of jail. And a mental institution.

Sam stepped out of bed, trying not to groan. "Aww.. poor Sammy Wammy." Lucifer crooned.

"Shut up." Sam snapped.

"Jeez, touchy." Lucifer followed Sam as he walked to the door. "Ooh, a breakout! Let's do it McQueen style, huh? Too bad Dean's not here, you two could have been the dynamic duo!"

"I said, shut up!" Sam growled. Lucifer feigned crying. Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had no idea the devil would be so… exasperating. He'd almost rather take torture.

Sam ducked back into his room as a group of orderlies passed by, chatting about something or another. Sam thought he heard the words 'skinny jeans' and 'tightrope', but he wasn't sure.

After the orderlies were safely out of sight, Sam crept down the hallway. He knew if he was caught he'd be locked up in some high security ward, but he didn't care. After all, he was dying soon. What did it matter if he died free or penned up? It did matter that he made sure Dean and Cass were all right.

Sam managed to make it outside, amazingly, without being seen. The guards watching the security cameras must have been reading skin mags. Sam smirked at the thought. He stood in the parking lot for a while, wondering what to do.

_Duh, _he thought_, hotwire a car._

Lucifer appeared behind him again. "Yes! Now, I can never remember. Is it the blue wires or the red ones?"

Sam chose the nearest car that wasn't ostentatious and picked the lock on the car door with a bobby pin he had found on the floor of the hallway. Once inside, he managed to gain access to the ignition and various other wires.

He found the two red wires, twisted them together, and touched them to the brown ignition wire. The car started with a low rumble. It was considerably quieter than the Impala had been. That was a sound he hadn't heard for a while.

"Aww… sentimental, Sammy?" The devil sat in the passenger seat of the car.

"Yeah," Sam returned, "for a time when I didn't hear your annoying voice 24/7."

"Ouch, Sam. That hurts."

"Good."

Sam backed the car out of the parking lot and sped towards Dean's hotel room. He only hoped he didn't have a complete mental breakdown on the way over there.

_**REVIEW! I Re, you Re, We all Re for Reviews! (Okay, that didn't make much sense. I think ice cream won that one.)**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Again, as previously mentioned, this one's dedicated to bearberry915. But that doesn't mean I don't love all you reviewers! (And silent readers. You guys rock.)**_

_**Disclaimer. I do not own Supernatural. But, as of now, I am taking donations. (Large bills only, please.) ;)**_

Dean had watched the whole scene unfold with horror. He regretted keeping the jar of holy oil. Now Cass was trapped in a Ring of Fire, Dean thought with a slight bit of humor, remembering the Johnny Cash song.

His body moved of its own accord. Well, really, the demon's accord. Dean could feel that the demon had a plan. Dean's previous conclusion had been proven correct. The demon hadn't possessed Dean just to mess with him, and eventually kill him. It had possessed Dean to kill Castiel.

Dean still couldn't really process that Cass was back. Apparently he was God's favorite, even after declaring himself the new Lord. Dean shook his head. He didn't understand Castiel's Father's intentions or motivations at all. _But then again_, Dean thought, _did anybody?_

The demon snapped Dean from his contemplations. _Are you just going to sit and ponder the meaning of life, Ghandi, or are you going to watch the show?_ It laughed when Dean took offense to being called Ghandi. After all, Sam was the fruitarian lover, not Dean.

Dean still watched what was happening, though. He wanted to know exactly what he was doing. Castiel was still trapped in the burning ring of fire, watching Dean with apprehensive eyes. He was obviously trying not to show fear, but every now and then it leaked through.

"Are you ready?" Dean felt himself say. He was unsure if the demon was talking to him or Cass.

Castiel just stared at Dean. "Silent, huh? Too bad. A little conversation would've prolonged your life a couple minutes."

To his credit, Cass didn't speak. Dean grudgingly gave the angel a mental tip of the hat. "Fine," Dean snarled. "Let's get this show on the road."

The demon moved Dean's body in an advance toward Castiel. The angel's lips moved quickly, but no audible sound was formed. _Is he praying?_ Dean asked himself.

_Won't help him,_ the demon snarled.

_I wasn't asking you, ass-clown._ Dean snarled back.

_Sorry, sweetheart,_ the demon patronized, _I think you used that one already. Not very creative, huh?_

_Why you son of a –_ Dean couldn't finish. The demon had somehow gagged him from even his mental speech. If he could've talked, what he would have said would likely have rhymed with lamb. Or slam.

The demon just laughed, out loud with Dean's voice. Dean watched as Castiel recoiled from the sound.

The door burst open. If Dean had control of his face, it would've displayed complete and utter surprise. Sam walked in, leaning heavily on the doorframe.

"Sam?" the demon asked.

Sam looked at Dean. "Dean?" he asked. Then he spotted the circle of flames around Castiel. "What are you doing?"

Castiel turned toward Sam. "He's possessed!" the angel yelled.

"What?" Sam asked. "That's impossible!"

The demon decided to use Sam's confusion for its own benefit. "Sam, Cass tried to kill me! It was lucky we kept that holy oil!" It said in Dean's voice.

Sam's face hardened. "Bull shit." He said. Dean felt like dancing. Sam had fell for the demon's act back at the mental hospital, but he saw right through it here. How could he not?

Then Dean stopped his mental dance. Sure, Sam knew Dean was possessed, but would Sam even be able to stop him? Sam even now was having trouble standing up. As Sam walked toward Dean, shotgun raised, obviously filched from Dean's car in the parking lot, the demon charged Sam.

Sam's eyes widened in obvious fear and alarm, but he still managed to shoot at Dean. Rock salt pummeled his chest. Dean had had rock salt emptied into him before, but he hadn't remembered how much it hurt. Even the demon was momentarily stunned. Sam used the opportunity to pull a flask from his jacket and empty the contents onto Dean.

Dean expected to feel the burning from holy water, but instead, nothing happened. Sam's eyes widened. Dean faintly smelled… whiskey?

"Whoops," Sam muttered. He pulled another flask from his jacket and emptied this one's contents onto Dean. This time, Dean felt the burning. It felt like sulfuric acid, eating away at his skin. The demon felt it, too.

It screamed. Dean laughed at the demon's pain.

_"Take that you son of a bitch!" _He spat contemptuously.

_**Review! C'mon, you know you wanna! Actually, it doesn't matter if you want to or not, because I am officially using my Jedi mind powers. You must review! You must review!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**AAHH! Sorry, this chapter might seem a little repetetive, but I had to do it! Anyways, I love you guys for all your reviews, and even for the silent support that I just KNOW you're giving. ;)**_

**_I don't own Supernatural. Darn._**

Sam burst into the room, shotgun loaded and ready. He had grabbed the first weapon he had seen in the trunk of Dean's car. Unfortunately, this one was still loaded with salt. It wouldn't kill, but it would still hurt like hell. Which Sam knew all too much about. "Yeah, I have to agree, Sammy," Lucifer said with false sympathy.

Dean turned towards Sam. "Sam?" he asked.

Sam looked at Dean in surprise. "Dean?" he asked. Then he took in the room. Castiel was standing in the middle of a circle of flames. _Holy oil._ Sam thought. Music played, Sam recognized it as the Kinks 'Well-Respected Man'. That threw Sam off. Why would Dean even play that song? Then he noticed the angel blade in his brother's hand. Something was wrong. Very.

"He's possessed!" Sam heard Cass yell.

"What?" Sam yelled back, completely confused. "That's impossible." Dean's tattoo should prevent that. It was the same tattoo Sam had, the one that prevented any demons from cramming themselves into their bodies. Both the Winchesters had gotten them after Sam had been possessed. Sam shuddered as he remembered the experience.

Dean spoke then. "Sam, Cass tried to kill me!" 'Dean' was obviously trying to persuade Sam. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

"Bull shit," Sam said as he raised his shotgun. It was filled with rock salt, so it wouldn't kill Dean. Which he didn't want to do. Sam was now glad that it wasn't loaded with real bullets. Not-Dean staggered back as the salt sprayed his chest.

Sam moved quickly while the demon was still doubled over. He pulled a flask out of his jacket. He quickly unscrewed its contents and splashed them on Dean. He expected to see his brother screaming in pain, but there was no such reaction.

_Ah, crap._ Sam thought. Instead he mumbled, "Whoops." He reached into his jacket again, and pulled out a second flask. _Hopefully this one works,_ he thought.

It had the desired effect. Sam watched as his brother screamed in agony. It was almost too much to bear, but Sam knew it wasn't really his brother screaming. Although Dean was feeling the pain, too. Sam had never told Dean that when he was possessed, he felt the holy water, too. But Dean knew it now.

Sam just hoped it didn't hurt too much.

As his brother screamed, Sam hurried over to where Castiel was trapped. He started to stamp out the flames, but Castiel looked up, past Sam.

Dean had recovered from the holy water, and now stared at Sam with entirely black eyes. Dean's face sent shivers down Sam's spine. He had never seen his brother look so terrifying.

"Sam!" Cass yelled.

It was too late. Sam turned to see Dean holding the angel blade, swinging it in an arc towards his head. Sam waited for the blade to connect; Sam waited for his death. But as he watched, his brother twisted his wrist slightly so that when the blade made contact with Sam's head, it hit him with the flat.

His brother had done that, Sam thought. Dean had twisted his wrist. Not the demon. Dean had taken control, just for a little bit. But it had been enough. Dean had prevented the demon from killing Sam. These were Sam's last thoughts before Dean's black eyes swallowed up the world. Sam passed out.

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	8. Chapter 8

_**Yeah, baby! New chapter!**_

_**Disclaimer: Reading the following may cause 'Obsessive Castiel Disorder', 'Ghost sickness', 'The Winchester Shivers', or 'Pneumonia'. I also don't own Supernatural.**_

Dean stared at the unmoving heap that was his brother in horror. He had almost killed him. He, Dean Winchester, had almost killed the brother that he had sworn to protect. He imagined himself not turning his wrist slightly, killing Sam. The thought was excruciating.

But one turn of the wrist had saved Sam. Dean had never thought turning his own wrist would be so hard. Time had seemed to slow. That was good. It had given him extra time to fight the demon inside him. It had been ridiculously exhausting.

_You'll pay for that!_ The demon screamed at Dean. _I still own you._

But Dean knew he wouldn't pay for it immediately. The demon still had to fulfill its original purpose. So Dean turned back toward Castiel, angel of the Lord.

Instead of raising the blade, like he thought he would find himself doing, his lips moved. "You know, the real Dean is still in here. Awake, watching." Dean hissed. "And he's just begging me to get it over. He's pleading with me, wanting me to kill you. He's waiting for the moment with relish." The words tumbled out of Dean's mouth in a strangled heap. "He would've done it himself once he found out you'd come back. Right after he let you heal little Sammy, of course." Dean gestured towards Sammy's crumpled form.

Castiel's eyes widened. _C'mon, Cass, you don't actually believe this BS, do you?_ Dean thought. But the look on the angel's face said he did.

"That's right," Dean continued. "I hate you. I despises that you even exist. I was overjoyed when you finally melted into that puddle of goo." The demon had switched to the first person, adding even more depth and cruelty to the harsh words. "I hate the Leviathans so much because they were a part of you. That's why I want to get rid of them all. You're the bane of my existence." Dean just kept on speaking. The words hit Castiel like physical blows.

The demon wanted to gloat before it murdered Cass. Like all demons, it had to have its moment of glory. They were sick, twisted beings. They were the very worst of human nature boiled down into a compact form.

The demon took a moment to use Dean's face to smile before it twirled the angel blade in his hand. It took slow, cautious footsteps, mimicking even Dean's own gait. Dean raised the blade high, prepared to end the angel's life. The angel that had once been his best friend, his partner, his alliance in a fight. The angel that had been a brother once.

Castiel listened in horror as the demon revealed Dean's true feelings. _Absurd, _was Castiel's first thought. But as the demon prattled on, Castiel's confidence was shaken. After all, he had harmed the most important thing in Dean's life. Family.

A sinking feeling settled in Castiel's stomach as the demon continued its speech using Dean's voice, Dean's lips, Dean's face. So when Dean raised the angel blade, he just waited for death. He didn't even want God to bring him back again.

He had failed miserably at his only job. Dean had been possessed by a demon only minutes after Castiel had been put back on his task. Sam Winchester was now an unconscious form lying on the cheap motel carpet.

Castiel deserved to die. So he faced death eyes open, shoulders set. He watched the man who had once been his friend, his family, raise the blade that was destined to kill him. The angel blade hadn't worked before when Sam had used it, but Castiel was sure it would work now. He no longer had the power of 50,000 souls.

Time slowed as Dean Winchester brought the gleaming silver blade down toward Castiel's chest. Dean's black eyes glittered evilly as he sensed the angel's imminent death.

But then the black eyes stopped glittering. The blade stopped its path toward Castiel. Dean held the blade, frozen like a statue. He gave little jerks and twists, fighting a battle inside himself. The demon used Dean's voice to scream out in rage. Castiel watched in amazement as the black receded to pupils. Dean Winchester's clear hazel eyes stared at him once more.

Dean looked around him. He actually looked around him. He had control of his body back. But he knew it was temporary. He could feel the demon banging around in his skull, trying to take back control. He could hear the demon screaming profanities at him. It was excruciating. Each second drained energy. It was almost too much.

Hastily, Dean dropped the angel blade. It fell to the floor with a metallic clang. The demon would have control again soon, he could feel it. Dean kicked the blade away, not without some difficulty. He was losing control. Dean turned to Castiel who was staring at him with an expression that was not short of amazement. "Cass," Dean started. "What the demon said," Dean looked as if he wanted to continue, but he made a choking noise.

"Dean?" Cass asked, concerned. Dean doubled over, jerking and twitching violently. The demon snarled and hissed at him, inside him, screaming insults and fighting for control. It was a war inside his own head. Dean clutched his head, groaning in agony. It reminded him of the time the psychic, Andy, had sent him a telepathic message of Sam's location. Then Dean straightened up once more. His eyes were still hazel. He was still in control. Barely. Hanging on by a thread.

With jerky, puppet-like movements, Dean stomped out the flames surrounding Cass. He had barely finished when he bent over again. The demon fought even harder this time, and Dean knew he was going to lose this fight. But Cass was free. Cass would fight the demon and Dean would be free.

So Dean gave up control, saving his energy for a later battle. He lost control of his body, the twitching stopped. Except, this time the demon was in control again. It straightened up, Dean's pupils expanded until they covered the hazel iris. His pupils grew until they swallowed the whites of his eyes. _You just can't win, can you?_ It teased.

Dean would've smirked. _No, I can't. But my friend Cass here can._

When he felt the demon's fear, he knew he was right.

_**Woo! Happy ending! Or is it... BWAHAHAHA!**_

_**As previously mentioned in the other seven chapters, reviews are your friend. They're very nice.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Woo-hoo! Thanks everybody for all your kind reviews! Here's another chapter! **_

_**I thought this was obvious but apparently it's necessary to state this at the beginning of every single chapter. ? Oh well. I don't own Supernatural. There. Happy? Just ruined my morning. Kidding!**_

Castiel watched as Dean, who had regained control, stomped out the holy oil flames that surrounded him. He had been amazed that Dean Winchester had been able to regain control from the demon, but when he pondered it more, it wasn't surprising. The Winchesters were much stronger than they looked. They never ceased to amaze Castiel.

Castiel watched with concern as Dean bent over for the second time, fighting a battle inside his head. Castiel had a feeling that Dean would lose this one. So he prepared himself to smite the demon.

Dean had literally saved them all when he had taken back control and put out the ring of fire. Now all Castiel had to do was smite the demon and heal the minor injuries that Dean had sustained. And then he would be able to deal with Sam Winchester.

Dean straightened up, no longer truly Dean. The pupils of his hazel eyes had swelled until they completely covered the irises, even the whites. The demon was back in control. But it was afraid of Castiel. The angel could sense this. Where it had been arrogant and confident before, now it was scared and desperate. And desperate creatures whether human, animal, or supernatural, tended to do rash things.

Castiel quickly reached for the demon, his hand brushing Dean's spiky hair. The demon grabbed a pocketknife from Dean's coat.

"That knife will not harm me." Castiel said.

"It's not going to harm you." The demon said. It was oddly satisfied. Castiel watched as Dean Winchester stabbed himself. Blood poured from the deep wound. Red blood, dark and thick.

"Funny how things turn around, isn't it?" Dean said with a smirk. Blood seeped through the gray tee-shirt. Soon it was soaked. "Just a minute ago, I was afraid I had a one-way ticket on the Inferno Express! But, lucky for me, Winchesters always have a back-up plan. The little pocketknife they keep, in case of emergencies, just saved me! They're so clever!" Dean smiled, satisfied.

Castiel quickly lowered his hand. Smiting the demon now would mean sure death for the man trapped inside.

...

Dean watched the scene unfold before him with petty satisfaction. He was strangely pleased for being possessed. But he knew it wouldn't last much longer. Castiel would smite the demon, Dean would be free, and Cass would heal Sam. It was going to be a happy ending at last.

So why was the demon unafraid? Was this one of the sadistic ones that couldn't wait to get back downstairs? Dean didn't think so. The demon had been very scared before. That could only mean one thing. It had a plan.

Dean watched without any of his previous smugness as the demon reached his hand into Dean's coat pocket. Dean felt his fingers close around the cool metal object that he always kept there for emergencies.

The demon made Dean flick the blade open. Dean watched recognition flicker in Castiel's eyes a moment too late. He felt the pocketknife pierce his abdomen. Dean flashed back to Lisa. It was the same spot that she had stabbed herself when she was possessed. _They must teach this trick in demon school_, Dean thought through the pain. It radiated outward from his stomach. Every time the demon moved the slightest inch, pain coursed through his body. If the demon wasn't holding his tears back, they would be falling freely.

Dean watched as Cass lowered his smiting hand. He wouldn't kill the demon now, with Dean injured.

Dean felt a laugh escape from his lips. Castiel stared at him. "What is funny?" he asked.

The demon used Dean to laugh again. "Déjà vu!" It exclaimed, as if that explained everything.

"What nonsense are you rambling about?" Castiel demanded.

"Well, Dean here had a moment of clarity before his reflexes kicked back in. Dean, baby, they don't teach this in demon school. I'm the same demon that possessed your slutty girlfriend!" Dean's only emotion was anger. Through a red haze he saw Castiel's eyes widen in alarm and recognition.

Dean let the insults and profanities stream through. The demon responded with a laugh from Dean's own lips. Dean burst through the bonds that the demon had so carefully fashioned around him. The demon wasn't expecting it; Dean could feel its surprise.

Acting quickly, Dean pulled up his shirt and raised the pocketknife to his chest again. He briefly glanced down at his wound. Bad idea. Blood gushed from it, making the shirt sopping wet with Dean's own blood. Dean already felt weak without demon life support.

Castiel raised a hand as if to stop Dean, but Dean slapped it away. He looked up. "Cass, it's me." When the angel's eyes narrowed, he huffed. "Just trust me, okay!"

Without waiting for an answer, he began carving a symbol he had seen only twice before onto his own chest. A circle with a line cutting diagonally through it. Meg seared it into Sam's skin, and Crowley had carved it into Brady's chest.

Castiel's eyes widened in understanding. "I don't want this bitch to get away again," Dean spat. This demon had caused so many troubles. It had nearly killed Lisa. It had emotionally scarred Ben. Before Cass had healed Lisa and wiped both of their memories, of course. But it had still been done. Dean had not forgotten.

Dean barely finished the sigil before he doubled over for the third time that night. Dean gave over control almost immediately. He was exhausted. He felt as if he had just run a marathon after fasting for three days. He knew it would be impossible to take back control again.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Hey! New Chapter! Yay! After you're done, please, please REVIEW... Carry on! (Wayward Sons!)**

Sam opened his eyes and was blinded with intense colors and light. He quickly shut them again. He tried opening them once more, squinting at first until his eyes adjusted. Then he took in the scene around him.

Dean held a pocket knife in his hand and was carving some symbol in his chest. Castiel watched, eyes grim and pained. Dean had just finished his art project before he doubled over again. When he straightened up, Sam could tell it wasn't his brother anymore.

Sam sat up quickly, but had to lean against the wall when his vision went black and dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. He groped his way over to the table and grabbed a handgun. He could hear a conversation between Dean and Castiel, but he ignored it, focusing on getting to Dean. Rather, Not-Dean.

Not-Dean had just tensed and was about to make a run for it when Sam swung his gun and pistol whipped his brother. Dean crumpled to the floor, much the same way Sam had done himself.

Castiel stared at Sam. "Cass," Sam groaned as he collapsed on one of the beds. "Draw a pentagram. To trap Dean." Castiel nodded and pulled a can of spray paint out of Dean's duffel bag. Within minutes he had complete his intricate design.

The angel then dragged Dean to the center of it, careful not to smear the fresh paint. Sam turned toward Cass, who was looking at him with concern. "Cass, what all happened?"

Cass took a big sigh. "I came here after I left your room in the Greenwood Clinic for the Mentally Unstable. I found Dean in this room, standing by the far wall. He had a variety of weapons on the table, along with the 'boombox'. He lit a lighter and dropped it on the carpet, igniting the circle of holy oil that he had previously placed. It was then that I realized he was possessed."

Sam laughed slightly. "Getting a little rusty, huh?"

Castiel tilted his head. "I am not made out of cast iron, therefore I do not rust."

"Never mind." Sam said. "It's an expression. Continue."

"Dean had an angel blade. He was going to use it on me until you came in. As you know, you shot him and doused him with holy water. Dean was about to kill you, but he managed to turn his wrist slightly so you were hit by the flat of the blade. After that, Dean raised the blade as if to strike me. But the real Dean took control and threw the angel blade away. He also stomped out the flames, releasing me. I was going to smite the demon, but it stabbed Dean before I could. The demon mentioned that it was the same demon that had possessed Lisa Braeden."

Sam groaned. No wonder Dean had carved the binding symbol on his own chest. He wanted this demon back where it came from. Dean wanted it to burn.

Cass continued. "Dean managed to take control for a third time, most likely through the sudden burst of extreme emotion at the demon mentioning Lisa. He took the pocketknife and carved the binding symbol. And that is where we are now."

Cass stopped and looked down at Dean.

"What are we going to do?" asked Sam.


	11. Chapter 11

**_New chapter. Woo-hoo. And to 'ebonylovesdeanandsam', I'm pretty sure it's impossible for a human being to be correct 100% of the time, but what do I know? I might be wrong. It's definitely possible. :)_**

**_I don't own Supernatural. Maybe I'll get it for Christmas this year. *yells over shoulder* MOM! Put SUPERNATURAL on my Christmas List! Yeah, right next to Jensen Ackles!_**

Dean came to at the same time the demon inside him did. He looked around and saw the elaborate pentagram drawn around him. He sighed in relief. It was actually going to end now.

But then the stab wound in his stomach sent a fresh wave of pain through him. If Sam and Cass exorcized the demon, Dean would die. It'd be over forever. The demon was the only thing keeping Dean from the grave.

But Dean was alright with that. This was the demon that had driven a wedge between him and Lisa. And Ben. He'd do anything; sacrifice anything, to send this mother back to hell. Even if the sacrifice was his life.

"What are we going to do?" Dean heard Sam's voice.

Castiel sighed. "It is quite enigma."

"Nice power word, Cass." Sam said. Dean could almost hear Sam roll his eyes.

"Power word?" Cass repeated.

"Never mind. What are we going to do with Dean? We can't just leave him like that. And we can't exorcize the demon, Dean'll die before we get him to a hospital. Even if we did, we're on the FBI's most wanted list!"

"I believe I can heal Dean's wounds before we exorcize the demon." Cass replied.

"Okay," Sam agreed. "Let's do it." Sam paused, then added, "Wow. Things are so much easier with an angel." Dean heard Sam rummaging in the duffel bag for Dad's bag. Dean didn't know why, Sam had almost every useful exorcism memorized. Maybe he wanted to be absolutely sure with his own brother.

The demon inside Dean stirred. Dean felt nervous; that wasn't a good sign. Inexplicably, a gust of wind blew through the small motel room. Sam turned his head around to look at Dean.

"Cass!" Sam called. "Look. His eyes." Cass turned around at Sam's call.

"The demon has woken," he stated.

The wind continued. It raged the curtains violently. Sam's long hair whipped wildly. Sam spit it out and tried to brush it out of his face. Castiel's hair didn't have the same problem. Apparently, angels used enough hair gel to withstand a small tornado. Dean could feel his own, shorter hair being ruffled.

The ground rumbled. The walls seemed to lean back and forth as the floor beneath Dean pitched. The rumbling increased in volume, and Dean laughed. It wasn't a laugh of humor, it was of pure delight. A tiny fissure opened up in the floor, near the pentagram.

"Hurry up, Cass!" Sam yelled over the wind and the rumbling.

Cass walked over to Dean. He stood just outside the pentagram. "Dean, I am going to heal your wounds." Cass's voice hardened. "Demon inside Dean, if you try anything, I will smite you immediately. Even if it means Dean's death."

Dean supposed he should feel offended, hurt by this, but he didn't . Instead he felt that Cass had his priorities straight. The demon stopped the wind and the small earthquake as Cass stepped inside the pentagram. Dean was wary, expecting another fight or attack.

The demon didn't even move. Cass put a hand on Dean's forehead, and Dean felt instant relief. When he looked down, he saw his flesh knitting back together, wounds sealing. All of them. Even the one on his chest. The binding symbol.

But it was alright, the demon couldn't escape when it was in the pentagram. Unless the pentagram was broken. Dean watched in alarm as Cass stepped on one of the lines. He wanted to shout in alarm, but the demon felt triumph.

When Cass took his foot off the line, he brought some of the orange spray paint with it. The demon used Dean to say one last phrase, "Goodbye." It sneered. Dean felt the demon try to smoke out of him.

He tried to hold on, to trap it inside him. He was determined, but he had no energy left. Taking control of his body no less than three separate times had taken its toll. The demon forced itself out of Dean's throat. Dean heard himself screaming as it did so.

Dean heard Cass's voice, full of sorrow and regret. "Dean, I'm sorry." Then Dean Winchester blacked out.

_**Review, please! I think I've said that before. Did I? I can't remember.**_

_**ANYWAYS, if you're in the mood for a laugh, check out Tobuscus's animated Canadian adventures. It's hilarious. :)**_


	12. Epilogue Chapter 12

**It's the closer. Yup, the epilogue. It's ending. So, read on. Enjoy. May the odds be ever in your favor... oh wait, that's Hunger Games... KEEP CALM AND CARRY SALT! (There.)**

**I don't own Supernatural. It's a shame, really, because there's so many things I would have done and such...**

Dean Winchester had spoken to Cass after the demon had escaped.

"Cass, you're family. I loved, love you like a brother." Dean paused. "But you hurt my family. For that, I can never forgive you. I'll never forget it." The angel had only nodded, and disappeared with a gust of wind and the sound of flapping feathers.

Later, Sam had reminded him of how he had managed to stop the demon from killing Cass. Surely that was a sign that Dean still cared for the angel, Sam argued.

"Sam. Give it up. Cass hurt you." When Sam protested he cut him off. "I know, he healed you. To you, that makes it right. But I can never really forget. I just can't forgive him." Sam had only nodded. Wise of him.

Dean was still plagued by nightmares. Except now, they had shifted. They involved his experience in possession, Lisa's demon, and Cass. The angel appeared in every single one. Cass breaking the wall in Sam's mind. Cass in the ring of fire, waiting for Dean to kill him. The look of sorrow in Cass's eyes when he apologized for everything. Again. Cass. Cass. Cass.

Dean Winchester still woke up screaming and yelling from his nightmares. Most times, Sam would throw a pillow at him and tell him to shut up. It seemed harsh, but that was honestly the way Dean wanted it. He didn't want sympathy. He didn't want his brother to play the psychiatrist. Other times, though, Sam would just lie silently, listening to what Dean yelled.

"I will not forget."

"I cannot forget this."

"You'll be the death of me."

And Sam knew that Dean would never forget Castiel, angel of the Lord.

And Sam knew that Dean would never forgive Castiel, angel of the Lord.

_**Review, please. It just makes the world a happier place. It makes the world go on. You thought that was love? Well, you were wrong. It's reviews.**_


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